


Snowstorm

by LovelyRita1967



Series: Snowstorm [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Betaed, Blizzards & Snowstorms, Boys Kissing, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Drinking Games, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Happy Ending, Huddling For Warmth, Idiots in Love, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Musician Jaskier | Dandelion, Mutual Pining, New Year's Eve, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Sexual Tension, Sharing a Bed, Song: Baby It's Cold Outside, Swearing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Tropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:28:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26234902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyRita1967/pseuds/LovelyRita1967
Summary: Geralt and Jaskier work in a restaurant together, but a snowstorm changes everything.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Snowstorm [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1983929
Comments: 97
Kudos: 468
Collections: Food for the Heart (Witcher), The Modern Witcher AU Collection





	Snowstorm

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote a soft Regis fic, [Some Shape of Beauty](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26129218), for my friend [Gryphonheart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gryphonheart/pseuds/Gryphonheart), which has now launched the Regis/Tissaia ship in our hearts. And when I wrote that fic, I couldn’t help but sneak in a little Geraskier pining, and, wouldn’t you know it, an entire AU was born. Welcome to our [Food for the Heart](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/FoodfortheHeart) collection. Geralt, Jaskier, Regis, Tissaia, and others work together in Regis’ Italian restaurant, Corvo Bianco. We made it a collection and not a series because the stories sometimes run parallel to each other. You can read more Regis/Tissaia and Eskel/Lambert now. 
> 
> The other thing you should know about Food for the Heart is that there is no such thing as too many tropes. We love tropes. We embrace tropes. They are all here. We hope you enjoy them as much as we do. 
> 
> Thank you to Gryphonheart for inspiring me with this universe, and for being just a wonderful writing partner and absolutely all-around truly stellar person. 
> 
> Thank you to my beta [Blaire_Seton](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blaire_Seton/pseuds/Blaire_Seton), who is amazing and beautiful and helpful and funny and so kind and I would now just die without her.

“Good morning!” Jaskier’s sing-song greeting reached Geralt’s ears across the kitchen. 

Geralt sighed and paused his dicing to crack two eggs into a skillet. He threw in some chopped peppers and onions and slapped two pieces of bread onto the grill. 

He could hear Jaskier chatting about his weekend to the other servers arriving for the brunch shift. 

“So then we all went to the Bruxa - have you been there yet? The decor is a touch pedestrian, wasn’t it Essi, but the menu was exquisite… and this one bartender _ … well… _ he was also rather exquisite.”

His voice came closer as he greeted the kitchen staff and made his way towards Geralt. 

“Good morning, Geralt.” A soft face, floppy brown hair over bright blue eyes, smiled at him. 

“Morning,” Geralt grumbled back. 

He slid the eggs onto a plate, and used a pair of tongs to add the toast and two pieces of bacon from the stash on the grill. He handed Jaskier the plate. 

“How did I end up making you breakfast every morning?” 

“You’re an absolute dear. Thank you.” Jaskier squeezed Geralt’s arm, and leaned against the counter. He found a fork and began shovelling in his breakfast. 

Jaskier had started working at Corvo Bianco, the busiest Italian place in town, a few months ago, and had quickly become the most popular and well tipped server. He had a talent for making just about everyone at his tables fall in love with him, and it seemed he fell in love with them right back. He was bright, vivacious, had a genuine smile, and a kind word for everyone. 

He also talked a fucking lot. 

“What’s new today, gentlemen?” Jaskier directed his question to everyone in the kitchen where they were busy getting for the Sunday brunch crowd. 

Eskel, a big bear of a man, was whisking eggs. “Same old, Jaskier. Same old.” 

“How did that party wind down on Saturday night?” he asked around a mouthful of eggs. 

“Tissaia finally had to ask them to leave. It was... maybe 2 a.m.?” 

Geralt let the sound of their voices wash over him and he kept at the brunch prep. 

“Morning, Triss!” Jaskier called as the hostess scurried by him, brown curls bouncing.

“Morning, Jask!” she waggled her fingers at him. 

“You look ravishing today, darling!”

“Oh, you!” She blew a kiss at him on her way out to the front.

Jaskier swallowed his last bite. “Delicious as always, Geralt. Ooh, Tissaia!” He pushed off the counter and fell into step with their new manager as she passed by. “You look absolutely lovely today as well. Doing something new with your bun, are you? I’ve been meaning to talk to you… I had an idea for all the Christmas parties. What if we had live music…” Her face remained impassive as he followed her back into her office. 

Geralt wondered for a second which would win in a stand-off: Tissaia’s stony facade or Jaskier’s relentless charm. Tissaia had just been hired to manage the place as the owner, Regis, was looking to purchase his third restaurant and was finding himself spread too thinly. Geralt found her hard to read. She came across as rather stern, but then again, so did he. 

As the morning went on, he lost himself in the rhythms of the job, the background fading into a comforting hum and the time slipped by. 

Geralt was startled out of his groove when he heard a loud crash behind him as a chafing dish hit the ground. He turned to see Jaskier frozen, mouth wide open, covered from chin to thighs in hollandaise sauce. 

One of the busboys stood with his hands up, horrified. 

“Oh my gods, Jaskier! I am so, so, so sorry!” he began to babble. “Oh my gods!” He grabbed a rag from the counter and began swiping at Jaskier’s shirt. 

“It’s okay,” Jaskier said, recovering from the shock. “It’s okay. I have a change of clothes in my locker…” He gingerly made his way towards the back, leaving drips of hollandaise behind him. 

Geralt quirked an eyebrow at the busboy. “Clean that up.” 

“Yessir, Mr. Rivia.” He nearly bowed to Geralt and turned his attention to the floor. 

Geralt got back to his omelettes when there was another interruption. 

“Shit!” Eskel barked. 

Geralt sighed. “What now?” 

“I just burst a seam in my jacket.” He turned around displaying where his chef’s jacket had split open along his shoulder. 

Lambert eyed him. “It’s all that working out you’ve been doing.” 

Eskel flushed. “Maybe. Do you have an extra, Geralt? Should fit me…” 

“Yeah, I think I left it… One second…” 

He wiped his hands on his apron and pushed his way into the staff washroom. He lurched to a stop when he saw the half-naked man in front of him. Jaskier was shirtless, his pants sitting low on his jutting hip bones. He was leaning over the sink, wiping his neck with a towel. 

“Oh, hi, Geralt, sorry, I’ll just be one minute…”

Geralt swallowed hard and let his eyes linger on Jaskier’s long, lean frame, and sculpted chest covered in dark hair. 

Jaskier’s eyes found his in the mirror and held them a moment. The corner of his mouth twitched up. 

“I just need…” Geralt groped around the back of the door. “I left a jacket in here…” 

He pulled it off the hook and bolted, tossing it at Eskel without a word. 

He put his head back down at his station, chopping furiously, ignoring the warmth in his cheeks. 

He could feel Eskel eyeing him, but was rescued when Jaskier burst back into the kitchen. 

“I don’t think I’ve had a chafing dish dumped on me before.” His laugh was like music. “Hoo, what a mess.”

“Ha, we’ve seen worse! What’s a little hollandaise on the floor? Ask Geralt about Yennefer,” Eskel smirked. 

Geralt groaned internally. Why did they have to keep bringing her up? 

“Who’s Yennefer?” Jaskier asked him. 

“Oh, just some witch that used to work here,” Lambert tossed over his shoulder.

“Yenn and I dated for a while. It… didn’t end well,” Geralt said gruffly.

“That’s putting it mildly,” Eskel snorted. “They had it out right where you’re standing and she quit on the spot and stormed out, tossing dishes and trolleys as she went.  _ That _ was a mess.” 

“What kind of dumbass dates someone they work with,” Lambert shook his head. 

“Lambert, I’m standing right here.” Geralt rubbed his forehead.

Lambert grinned at him. “And you’re a dumbass.” 

“You don’t think it ever works out?” Eskel looked at him thoughtfully. 

Lambert shook his head firmly. “Never.” 

Jaskier pursed his lips. “Well, I’ve done it plenty of times before! Very few times did it end in a disaster. Although one ex did tell all my tables I had syphilis...”

Geralt smiled into his mixing bowl, but then looked up and scowled. “We’d prefer to avoid claims of diseases around here.” 

“Right. Well… I’ll do my best to avoid it.” Jaskier gave him a lopsided smile and scooted back out to check on his tables. 

They survived brunch without any other incidents and reached the lull before the dinner crowd began to arrive.

“That’s it for me,” Jaskier announced to the kitchen as his shift ended. “I’m off tomorrow, so I’ll see you all at Regis’s tomorrow night, yeah?” 

Regis closed the restaurant early the first Monday in December so everyone could come to a Christmas party at his house. Geralt was not really one for parties, but it was always a good time. 

* * * * 

“Geralt! Welcome! Please, come in.” Regis offered Geralt a warm smile and held the door wide. He peered outside with a shiver and a gust of wind blew in a flurry of snow. “It seems the storm is here already.” 

Geralt shook the snow off his coat and slid it off. “Yup, it’s coming down pretty hard.” 

Regis pointed at a room just off of the foyer. “You may hang your coat in the den.”

Geralt, ever punctual, was the first one there, so he was well into his first and only beer he’d have this evening when Jaskier arrived. Geralt was well aware of the jolt that passed through his body when his eyes first rested on that dazzling smile. He was pleased when Jaskier found a drink and came straight over to him to say hi. He flitted off shortly after and Geralt chatted with Eskel and Lambert and a few of the other kitchen staff, but he was always aware of where Jaskier was. 

As the room filled up it began to get hotter, and Geralt shed his sweater in favour of the black t-shirt he had underneath it. He supposed it was imagination when he pulled the sweater over his head and Jaskier’s gaze appeared to linger. 

Later on they found themselves together leaning against the grand piano in the corner. Jaskier was several drinks in and Geralt noticed his body was even looser and more relaxed than normal. Jaskier’s eyes kept straying over to the piano bench. 

“Do you play?” Geralt asked him. 

A ghost of a smile crossed his face. “As a matter of fact, I do.” 

Geralt waited but he said nothing more. “Will you?” He could tell Jaskier was itching to touch the keys, but there was something holding him back. 

“My parents had me in lessons from a very young age. I loved it at first but as I grew…” He shrugged. “It became about what they wanted, not what I wanted.”

“Well, only if you want to…”

“I’d like to play if you would enjoy it.” His eyes were almost hard to look at, impossibly bright.

Geralt could only nod, and Jaskier slid gracefully onto the bench. He wiggled his fingers. “Any requests?”

Geralt’s mind blanked. “... Frosty the Snowman?”

Jaskier’s laugh was a song in itself. “If you insist.” 

He began, fingers dancing over the keys. “Geralt the Snowman, was a grumpy, cranky soul…  With hair so white and golden eyes, and a jaw made of stone…” 

Geralt’s stomach fizzed, but he glowered at him. 

Jaskier laughed again, clearly amused with himself, and then switched back to the regular words. 

Geralt had been so flustered by the snowman comparison, he had barely noticed Jaskier’s voice. Next he began a slow, sweet version of ‘All I Want for Christmas Is You’, and when Jaskier started to really sing, Geralt nearly fell over. His voice was beautiful, clear and sweet, perfectly in tune. 

He was starting to find it difficult to breathe, particularly when Jaskier looked at him. He was relieved when other people drifted past to put in other requests and stayed to sing along a bit. 

But then they would wander back to the party. Not Geralt. Geralt was transfixed, unable to leave his spot against the piano as the night went on. 

Triss dropped off a few more drinks for Jaskier, and Geralt could see the flush creep up his cheeks, temples shiny with sweat. He wanted to sit next to him on the bench, and push his hair back off his forehead for him. 

He took a tentative step towards the bench, thinking he could at least sit there. That wasn’t a big deal, right? But at that moment, the noise from the crowd playing Pyramid around the coffee table reached a peak as Lambert jumped to his feet. He howled in mock outrage to everyone’s laughter.

Eskel handed Lambert a shot glass. Lambert slammed it back and whooped loudly to the cheers of the crowd. 

“Lambert, you animal!” Jaskier stood up, hands on hips. He was swaying slightly. “I am trying to perform for you and I can’t do it over the sound of debauchery,” he said haughtily, but there was an amused glint in his blue eyes. 

“Come join us, Jaskier!” Lambert replied, empty shot glass raised high. “I will destroy you!” 

Jaskier grinned at him but his eyes slid over to Geralt.

“What do you say, Geralt?” Jaskier asked him, eyebrows raised. “Think we can take him?” He drained the last of his drink.

Geralt replied with a grunt, but when Jaskier traipsed over, he followed. 

A new round started and Jaskier threw himself in with glee. 

Since Geralt was driving, he hung back, ready to offer Jaskier moral support. Not much was needed though, as it turned out Jaskier was fairly good at this game, always able to tell when people were bluffing. The game, however, was such that he still ended up having a few shots, and Geralt was starting to wonder if perhaps this was such a good idea.

But then they reached the final card, Jaskier and Lambert facing off. Jaskier successfully called Lambert’s bluff, and he threw his arms up in victory as Lambert buried his face in his hands. 

When the accompanying cheering and groaning had died down a little, they heard Regis tapping on his wine glass with one of his rings. 

“Attention, my dears, please!” The room quickly quieted as everyone turned to listen to their beloved boss. “I would like to thank you all so much for joining me in my home this evening. But I’m afraid our time together must come to an end.” He smiled and held up his hands when he was met with a chorus of disappointment. “I know, I know, I wish you could stay all night, too. But I must get you all home safely, and there is no sign of the storm letting up.”

Geralt started to collect glasses from the table when Regis tutted at him. “No, please, Geralt. Leave that. You just need to get on your way.” 

Geralt nodded at him. “Thank you, Regis.” 

The elegant man smiled at him. “It is my pleasure Geralt.” His eyes slid over to Jaskier who was squinting at his phone. 

“Does this actually say the wait for the cab is an hour and 45 minutes?” Jaskier pointed his screen at Geralt’s face.

“I’ll drive you,” Geralt grumbled. “Come on.” 

“Oh, Geralt!” Jaskier sighed dramatically, throwing one arm around him. “You’ve rescued me yet again.” 

“Hmm.” Jaskier was swaying, so Geralt slid his arm around Jaskier’s waist to hold him steady.

Geralt swallowed hard, enjoying the feeling of Jaskier’s lean, taut muscles under his hand and heat from his body where he was now pressed against Geralt’s side. He looked at Jaskier and for a moment wanted nothing more than to wrap himself up in Jaskier’s arms completely. 

But then Jaskier began singing 'Let It Snow' quietly, almost to himself, and Geralt pursed his lips. Time to get this man home. 

Regis helped them collect their coats and bundle up. 

“All you have is a coat, Jaskier? No hat? Gloves?” 

“Psssssh,” he blew a breath at Geralt. “It’s fine.”

“It’s a blizzard out there, Jaskier. Here, take mine.” He pulled his toque onto Jaskier’s head, fingers lingering for a moment on his neck. 

Jaskier smiled, eyes fluttering closed. “Always looking after me…” 

Geralt steered him out the door, waving to Regis as they left. 

The snow was almost at their knees and the wind pelted stinging snowflakes at them. Geralt’s car was right out front, since he preferred to arrive at social functions a good five minutes early, just in case. 

He half-carried Jaskier down the driveway as ‘Let It Snow’ transitioned into the male half of ‘Baby It’s Cold Outside’. 

_ "Beautiful, what's your hurry?... Listen to the fireplace roar…”  _ he crooned, unhurried, as Geralt propped him against his car. 

Geralt began sweeping at the snow with his hands to clear the passenger door enough to open it. The thick blanket of snow absorbed every other sound around them, and Jaskier’s voice filled the air, smooth and rich. 

_ "Beautiful, please don't hurry… I'll put some records on while I pour..." _ Jaskier’s head tipped back, his breath white in the sharp air. 

Geralt hunched his head down as a finger of cool air crept down the back of his coat and gave him a shiver. He let Jaskier’s voice wash over him as he worked. 

_ “Baby, it's bad out there....” _ Jaskier tossed a handful of snow in Geralt’s direction, a lazy grin spreading across his face.

Geralt arched an eyebrow at him, then opened the door carefully so the snow wouldn't blow in all over Jaskier’s seat. He leaned down to pull out his snow brush. 

_ "No cabs to be had out there..." _ Jaskier hadn’t moved. 

“Get in, Jaskier.” 

Jaskier took a step closer to him and rested an arm on the door frame, his gaze meeting Geralt’s.  _ “Your eyes are like starlight now...” _

Geralt froze, and for a single, crystallized moment, the world was just the two of them. Their own snow globe.

“Hmm.” Geralt felt his cheeks flush despite the cold. He hoped Jaskier wouldn’t notice. “I said get in.” He gave Jaskier’s shoulder a gentle nudge and his long frame fell into the passenger seat. 

He closed the door, but right before it shut, he thought he heard Jaskier sigh his name. 

He went around to the driver’s door and attacked it with his snow brush before he was able to slide in and start the car. 

Jaskier was humming under his breath now, his head turned so he could look out the single cleared window. 

Geralt started the car, turned the defrost on full blast, then climbed back out into the storm to clear off the rest of the snow. 

When he got back in, Jaskier’s head flopped over and he watched him with hooded eyes. Geralt wondered how much long he would manage to stay awake. 

Geralt’s fingers were frozen and he took a second to blow on them, then held them up in front of the vents. He took a breath, and realized Jaskier’s scent had permeated the entire car. Gods, he smelled so good, spicy and a little sweet. 

Then suddenly Jaskier spoke. “Geralt.”

“Hmm?”

“Give me your hands.” 

Before Geralt could move, Jaskier had leaned forward and grabbed both of his hands and held one tightly in each of his. Jaskier’s hands were hot, so hot on Geralt’s skin they almost hurt. 

Their noses were inches apart, and now he could smell Jaskier directly. He took another deep breath, feeling almost dizzy with it. The windows were fogged up, there was nothing else in the world right now. 

Jaskier licked his lips, his eyes flicking to Geralt’s mouth, and Geralt’s heart leapt into his throat. 

_ “I'll hold your hands, they're just like ice…” _ he sang again in a whisper. 

Jaskier’s lips were parted, and moist, and just right fucking there.

Geralt’s mind raced, but then Jaskier’s eyes closed and he fell forward against Geralt’s shoulder, letting go of Geralt’s hands. He sighed. 

Geralt enjoyed the weight of Jaskier against him for a moment, then gently helped him back into his seat, learning across to fasten his seatbelt for him. 

He put on his seatbelt, turned on his windshield wipers to clear the snow that had since fallen, and put the car into gear. 

The roads were treacherous and Jaskier lived a lot farther away than Geralt did. Geralt made the decision to just take Jaskier back to his place. It was the safe thing to do. 

Thankfully the roads were nearly empty, and despite seeing the odd vehicle sliding around, and a tow truck at work pulling a car out of a ditch, they made it back to Geralt’s house without incident. 

He came to a stop in his driveway and turned to look at Jaskier, who appeared to be fast asleep. Geralt went around to the passenger side and opened his door. 

“Jaskier.” He shook his shoulder gently. Nothing. 

“Jaskier! You need to wake up. I can’t carry you.” He could barely see through the blowing snow and Jaskier was not moving. 

Fuck. 

He leaned in and wrapped his arms around Jaskier, tugging him out of the car. Jaskier groaned and flopped against him. The wind bit at his ears and nose. 

“Jaskier, I need you to walk.” 

Instead, Jaskier put his arms around Geralt and rested his head on Geralt’s shoulder. 

Geralt shook his head and took a deep breath, sliding one arm under Jaskier’s knees and picking him right up. 

Geralt was strong but Jaskier was not a small man, and he had to wade through more than a foot of snow on top of it.

When he reached his door, out of breath, he put Jaskier down to dig through his pockets. Jaskier leaned heavily against him and burrowed his face into Geralt’s neck. Geralt could even hear a sigh in his ear over the wind. 

He clenched his jaw and reminded himself that Jaskier was drunk, cursing as he fumbled for his keys.

He finally got the door open and nudged Jaskier inside, seeing that he seemed to be awake enough now to shuffle in. 

Once the door was safely closed behind them, Geralt gratefully kicked off his boots and shrugged out of his coat, noticing that Jaskier had wandered into the living room without taking any of his outdoor gear off. 

“Jaskier, your boots…” Geralt started, but trailed off knowing it was futile. Besides, it was only water. 

Jaskier flung himself onto Geralt’s couch with a groan. “This is not my house,” he mumbled, face smushed against the cushion. 

He pulled Geralt’s toque off his head. Geralt took a moment to admire the way his hair stuck up. 

“No, I… just wanted to get off the road. I hope that’s okay.” He pulled Jaskier’s boots off and tossed them back at the door. 

Jaskier made an unsuccessful attempt to wiggle out of his coat. Geralt helped slide it off for him, and Jaskier curled up into a ball and shivered. 

“Why is it so cold in your house, Geralt?” 

Geralt had been so happy to get out of the snow that he hadn’t noticed at first, but it was indeed very cold. 

He took in his surroundings. It was completely dark.

“The power’s out,” he frowned. 

Jaskier shivered in response. 

“Come on, you can have my bed. Let’s get you upstairs.”

“Your bed,” Jaskier repeated smiling into the pillows, then began to laugh. “Your bed!”

“Alright, you can do this. Up we get.” He shook his head at the giggles and gave Jaskier a heave. 

Fortunately Jaskier managed to get up the stairs mostly under his own power. He stopped at the bathroom, then found Geralt in his bedroom spreading the comforter back on the bed after changing the sheets. 

“You didn’t need to…” Jaskier waved at the bed.

“It’s no trouble-” Geralt started to say, but Jaskier was already burrowing under the covers. 

Geralt pulled another blanket out of the closet and spread it out over him, but Jaskier continued to shiver. 

“It’s so c-cold, Geralt. Will you get in here with m-me?”

Geralt froze. “What?”

“Get in here and w-warm me up. I’m f-freezing.” 

“Jaskier, I can’t… We work together…”

“Geralt, I’m not asking you to have sex with me. I just want to warm up. P-please.”

Jaskier looked up at him, nothing but big blue eyes. 

It  _ was  _ really fucking cold in there and, Geralt figured, as long as they were both fully dressed, what was the harm? 

He slid under the covers, his back to Jaskier, but before he could worry about finding a safe, uncompromising position, Jaskier wrapped himself around him. 

“I’ll be the big spoon,” he murmured contentedly into Geralt’s neck. 

Geralt lay there rigidly, goosebumps prickling his skin as he began to warm up. He allowed himself to relax into the mattress, acutely aware of Jaskier’s chest pressed to him. He was also suddenly aware that Jaskier’s hips were pressed to his ass, their legs already twined together. 

_ Fuck. _

Jaskier gave a contented sigh, his shivering ceased, and very quickly his breathing became slow and even. 

Geralt listened to him breathe, while the wind howled outside. A smile crept onto his face and soon he fell asleep, too. 

* * * *

Geralt woke up with a start, wondering whose warm body he was holding onto. They had switched positions during the night, and Jaskier was now the little spoon. Geralt had his arm wrapped around Jaskier’s waist, his nose in Jaskier’s hair. 

And his morning erection pressed into Jaskier’s bottom. 

Geralt jolted his hips back, then held his breath as Jaskier stirred. He slowly slid his arm off, trying not to wake him up, but Jaskier rolled over, blinking sleepily. 

“Good morning, Geralt,” he murmured, as if waking up like this was just the most natural fucking thing in the world. 

“Uhhhh, good morning,” Geralt replied, intensely aware of his morning breath and discreetly trying to not breathe on Jaskier. At least the blanket was covering his crotch. 

“Hoo, it’s really hot in here now, isn’t it?” Jaskier asked as he flung the blanket off of them.

Geralt froze.  _ Don’t panic. You’re fully dressed. I’m sure your jeans won’t show anything… too badly.  _

But then Jaskier stretched with a huge yawn, hands above his head, back arched, and Geralt couldn’t help but stare at the patch of skin revealed along Jaskier’s waistband, dark hair dusting the taut skin. 

This was not helping the situation.

And neither was the groan Jaskier was making now as he put his hands over his eyes. “Oh gods, I did drink an awful lot last night, didn’t I? My head is pounding.” 

“Uhhh…” Geralt scrambled out of the bed and bolted for the door. “I’ll just… get you some water.” 

He ducked into the bathroom to relieve himself and quickly brush his teeth, pausing only a moment to run a few fingers through his hair. It was a little messy, but he never liked to fuss with it too much. 

He headed to the kitchen, and grabbed a glass of water and a Gatorade out of the fridge for Jaskier. 

When he walked back into his bedroom he held his breath as he peaked around the doorframe, worried what he might find. 

Geralt was relieved to see that Jaskier had curled himself back up under the blanket. His eyes were closed, brow furrowed. 

“Here, drink this.” Geralt perched on the edge of his bed and he held out the drinks. 

Jaskier opened one eye and groaned again. He wiggled himself up a bit and reached out for the Gatorade. 

Geralt watched him as he took a few gulps. His throat was very… long. 

“Are you okay?” he finally asked to break the silence. 

Jaskier wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and nodded. “I’ll be fine, thank you. We’re at your house?” 

The topic change threw Geralt for a minute. “Yes, the storm…” he trailed off awkwardly. “The roads were a mess... I just wanted to…”

“Yes, thank you.” Jaskier’s head bobbed. “Makes sense. Is it still snowing, or…” 

Geralt had been so distracted by waking up with Jaskier in his bed that he had completely forgotten about the storm. He put the water on his bedside table and stood up to go look out the window. He was shocked by the sight. 

The sun was out, and the world was a dazzling carpet of white. Cars were mostly nothing more than identical blobs and there was no sign of where the yards ended and the roads began. 

Jaskier came to join him at the window. 

“I don’t think you’ll be able to go anywhere just yet…” Geralt hoped he didn’t mind being stuck there. “I can make you breakfast.” 

Jaskier turned to look at him. 

Geralt froze when Jaskier slowly lifted a hand to Geralt's head. He felt a gentle tug and the soft touch of fingers smoothing his hair. His stomach flipped. 

“You just had a little… tangle there.” Jaskier cleared his throat. “And how about I make you breakfast for a change? I can do killer pancakes.” 

“Yes, thanks. That sounds… good.” 

“Can I just…” Jaskier gestured to himself, “freshen up a moment?”

“Of course, yes. There’s towels in the bathroom cupboard.”

Jaskier headed to the bathroom and Geralt went downstairs. He found his phone in his coat pocket and saw a text from Regis that they would be opening quite late today, if at all. 

Geralt puttered around the kitchen, getting the coffee going and pulling out the ingredients for pancakes, when he heard Jaskier clear his throat. 

He turned around and nearly choked on his next breath. 

Jaskier was wearing one of Geralt’s shirts. One of his favourite shirts, actually. A soft, grey t-shirt from when he rowed crew at university. It was a little small for him these days, but he still wore it sometimes out of nostalgia. It looked really good on Jaskier. Really, really good. 

Geralt reminded himself to breathe. 

“Oh, sorry…” Jaskier said sheepishly. “My shirt smelled a little funky… I just grabbed this from one of your drawers.” 

Geralt continued to stare. 

“Is this… okay?” 

“Yes! Yes. Yes, that’s fine. Of course.” 

Jaskier’s smile was dazzling. “Now, you just sit your head chef ass down and let me take care of you for a change.” 

_ Take care of you… for a change?  _ Did he take care of Jaskier? 

Geralt watched from his kitchen table as Jaskier dirtied about 200% more dishes than necessary and got flour on virtually every surface. But he didn’t care, transfixed by the little dusting of flour on Jaskier’s cheek. His fingers itched to brush it away. 

Jaskier finally placed a plate in front of Geralt proudly. “Bon appetit!” he said with a flourish. “Syrup?”

“Yes, please.” 

Geralt watched as Jaskier slowly drizzled the syrup over the pancakes. The last sticky strand dripped onto the table. Geralt felt his mouth dry as Jaskier wiped it up with a finger then licked it all. His brain shorted out. Jaskier. Syrup. Fingers. Lick. 

He gave his head a shake and took a deep breath as Jaskier fetched his own plate and pulled out the chair across from Geralt. 

Their knees bumped under the table as Jaskier sat down. 

Turned out they  _ were  _ really excellent pancakes. Geralt managed to relax as the breakfast went on, caught up in Jaskier’s easy warmth and charm. He told Geralt a story about a time when he was little and basically destroyed the kitchen making pancakes for his parents. 

Geralt looked around his kitchen with a raised eyebrow. “Yes, I know how they felt.”

Jaskier gasped and gave him a gentle kick under the table. “How dare you! This is the creative process at work, Geralt! Would you tell Michelangelo not to get paint everywhere? 

“Oh, you’re Michelangelo in this scenario now, are you?” Geralt found himself grinning and before he knew it, he nudged Jaskier back with this foot. 

And then their legs were just touching and Geralt’s heart was pounding. He turned his attention back to his plate. 

Jaskier filled him in on the latest gossip with the servers and then wondered what exactly was going on with Eskel and Lambert. 

“What do you mean?” Geralt asked, confused. 

“Haven’t you noticed the tension between them lately?”

Geralt shook his head. “I- No, I tend not to notice stuff like that. As far as I know they’re just roommates.”

Jaskier laughed. “They were roommates!”

“What?”

“Nothing.” He smiled and eyed Geralt’s empty plate. “Want some more?” 

After a long, leisurely breakfast, Jaskier insisted on cleaning up, too. Geralt relented, figuring it was unlikely he’d make the mess any worse, and went to look out the front window. 

He was almost sad when he saw the plow had been by. A few neighbours were out unearthing their cars, and he could see traffic down on the main road. 

“Looks like things are moving again,” he called over his shoulder to Jaskier. 

He eyed his driveway, back already hurting from the thought of shovelling all that snow, then wandered back into the kitchen. 

Jaskier was standing at the sink full of soapy water, humming to himself while he pushed a few buttons on his phone. 

Geralt’s eyes roamed along Jaskier’s tapered back, down to his narrow hips, remembering how it felt pressed up against him this morning. And his round, tight-

“Cab’s on its way,” Jaskier flashed him a smile over his shoulder and slipped his phone into his back pocket.

Geralt was sweating. “Oh, I could’ve driven you home.”

Jaskier slid his hands back into the water and smiled softly at the suds. “You’ve put up with me  quite enough the past 12 hours I think.” He began scrubbing the last few remaining dishes.

“It’s no trouble. And I can finish those.” 

“Nonsense, I’m almost done.” 

“Okay. I’m just going to go… get a start on the driveway, then.” 

Geralt found his toque on the couch where Jaskier had discarded it, pulled it on, and bundled himself into his coat and gloves. He went out through the garage to grab a shovel. He had barely made a dent in all the snow by the time the cab pulled up. 

Jaskier came bounding out. He paused in front of Geralt, breath white in the air, eyes shining. “Thank you, Geralt. For everything. For taking care of my drunk ass and… everything.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll see you at work.” Geralt watched him climb into the cab with a wave. 

Once the cab was out of sight, he groaned and rested his head on the top of the shovel. His mind raced with the memory of Jaskier’s warm, hard body, and his soft smiles, and gorgeous voice… This was not good. 

Geralt threw himself into shoveling until the driveway was clear, and stomped back into the garage, sweaty and out of breath. He made his way back inside to go hang up his coat. 

And on the back of the couch, there was the shirt Jaskier borrowed. He left it neatly folded. Geralt ran a hand over it, then picked it up and pressed it to his nose, inhaling deeply. 

Really not good. 

The t-shirt ended up on his pillow that night. 

* * * * 

The restaurant was now fully into its busiest season, with Christmas parties almost every night. It was the Saturday after their own staff party, and the restaurant was slowing down. The guests from the last party had left, and just a few remaining tables were wrapping up their evening. 

Geralt, Eskel, and Lambert were closing down the kitchen and overseeing some of tomorrow’s prep. Jaskier slipped into the kitchen and leaned against the counter. 

“Sooooo…” he started. 

Geralt stifled a smile. He knew when Jaskier was about to ask for a favour. He gave him a frown instead.

“I need a favour from one of you,” he began. 

Lambert snorted. “No.” 

Jaskier sputtered. “I haven’t even asked-”

“Yeah, but I already know it’s a no for me.” Lambert grinned at him. 

Eskel rolled his eyes. “Go ahead, Jaskier.” 

“Well, the thing is….” he fiddled with the stack of dish towels on the counter. “My parents are having a Christmas party and… I have to go, and… I sort of told them… I was hoping one of you would...”

“Are you about to ask one of us to be your Fake Boyfriend?” Lambert asked with glee. He all but fell over laughing. 

Jaskier’s cheeks turned pink and he seemed to be at a rare loss for words.

Eskel looked at Geralt with a grin. 

Geralt’s eyes went wide.  _ Surely not… _

Jaskier bit his lip and looked at Geralt with hopeful eyes. 

Geralt groaned. 

“He’ll do it,” Eskel proclaimed, leading to fresh peals of laughter from Lambert. 

* * * * 

“This will be easy, we barely have to make anything up. We met at the restaurant, when I started working there, we’ve been dating for… let’s say two months, do you think? Long enough that I would bring you to a Christmas party but not so long that it’s anything too serious?” Jaskier was babbling nervously in the car as he drove to his parents’ house. 

Geralt sat in the passenger seat, palms sweaty, wondering what he had gotten himself into. But when Jaskier looked at him with those bright blue eyes, there had been no saying no. 

His suit really fucking chafed, though. He tugged at his collar. 

“We won’t stay long, we’ll just blend right in, have a few drinks, and be on our way.”

“Hmm.” 

The houses were getting bigger and bigger the longer they drove, until they disappeared entirely behind rows of massive cedars and towering gates. When Jaskier approached the tallest gate so far, Geralt wasn’t that surprised to see security waiting. 

Jaskier rolled down the window and one of the guards approached with a flashlight and clipboard in hand. 

“Julian Pankratz and guest,” he announced. The guard checked his list and waved them through.

“Julian?” Geralt asked once they were clear and began to make their way down the long, shrub-lined driveway. 

“Oh, right. Yes. Sorry, everyone is going to call me Julian tonight.”

Geralt just looked at him. 

“I mean… my name is Julian.”

“Is there anything else I should know about you before we go in,  _ Julian?” _

“No, it’ll be fine.”

And then the house appeared. 

“Fuck,” was all Geralt could say. 

“Oh, and my parents are super rich.” 

By the time they passed the car over to the valet and made their way to the front door, Jaskier was practically vibrating. 

He rang the bell. 

Geralt figured it was time to get the show on the road. He took Jaskier’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “You’ve got this.”  _ I’m here for you.  _

Jaskier took a deep breath and smiled nervously at him. He squeezed back. “Fuck yeah, we do.” 

The door flung open. “Julian!” a woman trilled. 

She looked just like Jaskier, only with brown eyes instead of blue. She was wearing a red skirt and jacket with a strand of pearls around her neck and large, sparkly earrings. 

She kissed Jaskier on each cheek. 

“Hello, Mother,” he said politely, returning the kisses. 

They stepped into the foyer, and Geralt craned his neck to look up at the ceiling that was mostly skylight, three storeys above them. 

“And this must be Geralt, whom we’ve only just heard about,” she said, turning to give him a once over. “My, my. Aren’t you… handsome,” she settled on, then leaned in to kiss his cheeks as well. 

“It’s very nice to meet you, Mrs. Pankratz. Thank you for having me.” 

“Oh, please, call me Sylvie.” A man took their coats and Sylvie swept across the hall. “We’re so happy to have you. We’ve been after Julian to bring somebody home for years now, haven’t we darling?” 

“Years,” Jaskier agreed, shooting Geralt what was the first of sure to be the first of many, many grateful looks this evening. 

Geralt took his hand again, and they followed Sylvie into a huge room filled with people dressed to the nines. Geralt was grateful he’d gone with his nicest suit, even if it was a little uncomfortable.  _ What do you even call this room? _ he wondered to himself.  _ A parlour?  _

It was decorated with Christmas greenery, evergreen boughs, red and gold bows, and more twinkling fairy lights than Geralt had previously thought could even exist in the world. 

He noticed more than a few heads turning as they entered the room. One of them was a very handsome blonde man, his hair slicked back and arm draped around a beautiful but rather unimpressed looking woman with dark hair. 

“Oh, fuck,” Geralt heard Jaskier groan under his breath, but with fake smile on his lips. 

“What?”

“That’s Valdo Marx. He and I dated off and on through college, a fact I deeply regret to this day. He’s the most arrogant douchebag you’ll ever meet, and yet completely talentless- shit, here he comes.” 

Geralt turned to see the couple approaching them, each slender and head-to-toe in black. 

“Julian, how nice to see you. How are you?” Valdo shook Jaskier’s hand with an oily smile. 

Geralt hated him already. 

“Valdo, hello.” Jaskier’s smile was tight. “What a surprise. Wasn’t expecting to see you this evening.” 

“Oh, I work for your father now, didn’t you know? We’ve been spending a lot of time together lately.” The man was unbearably smug. 

Jaskier ignored the line Valdo had cast and turned to Geralt. “Valdo, this is my boyfriend, Geralt.” 

Geralt slipped an arm around Jaskier’s waist and reached out with his other hand for a handshake.

He happily crushed Valdo’s hand in a death grip. “Valdo, how nice to meet you,” he rumbled, dropping his already deep voice to an even lower tone. 

Valdo winced the slightest bit as he yanked his hand free. “Geralt,” he said. “This is Courtney,” he tilted his head at the bored woman, who offered them a half-smile as her eyes continued to roam the room. “Tell me, Julian,” he continued. “Whatever are you up to these days? Still a waiter?”

Geralt seethed. But instead of punching that smarmy face, he pressed his nose into Jaskier’s neck and gave him a nuzzle. 

“Geralt,” Jaskier squeaked. “What-”

“I’m sorry, darling, I can’t help myself,” Geralt purred into his neck. “You’re just so fucking gorgeous, I want my lips on you at all times.” 

Courtney was suddenly paying attention and she turned to Valdo with a pout. “You never talk to me like that.” 

“Yes, well…” Valdo cleared this throat and took a sip of his drink. “I was just saying to your father, the other day at work-” he tried again desperately. 

“And his dick…” Geralt leaned forward and gave Courtney a conspiratorial wink. “Gods, the things it does to me…” 

Valdo choked on his drink. 

“Oh, man, are you okay?” Geralt let go of Jaskier and pounded on Valdo’s back harder than was strictly necessary. “And you should know,” he continued casually while Valdo coughed, “Julian is the best server we have. Everyone loves him, he rakes in the cash, he loves his job, and he’s fucking good at it. I’m guessing you can’t say the same. Now if you’ll excuse us, we’re going to go find a closet somewhere so I can suck his dick.”

Geralt took Jaskier by the hand and pulled him away, leaving Valdo sputtering and Courtney’s jaw on the floor. 

As soon as they rounded the corner, Jaskier stopped and slumped against the wall. 

“Holy fucking shit, Geralt.” Jaskier closed his eyes and took a shaky breath, unable to keep a bubble of laughter from escaping his lips. He opened his eyes and they were wet. 

Geralt shrugged, a little embarrassed. “Did I go too far at the end there?”

“Fuck, no!” Jaskier shook his head, still in awe. “Thank you. I never expected you to… but that was.... Wow.”

“It’s okay. He deserved it.” 

“I just didn’t know you had that in you. I’m just… Shall we get a drink?” Jaskier grinned at him, eyes still dancing with mirth. 

“Is there another bar somewhere else? We can’t go in there yet, I’m giving you a blow job in a closet somewhere, remember?” His cheeks burned even hotter as those words left his mouth, but Jaskier had already turned. 

“Lucky for you I used to live here. There’s a wet bar off the kitchen…” and he pulled Geralt down the hall. 

After a suitable amount of time had passed (thankfully they agreed on this silently - Geralt wasn’t sure he could handle any sort of discussion of how long it would take him to get Jaskier off) they wandered back into the main salon. 

After that, Jaskier relaxed as the evening went on. Geralt’s arm never left his waist. They chatted with aunts and uncles and some cousins. Luckily, Valdo and Courtney avoided them like the plague. 

And then they heard heavy feet approach them.

“Julian,” a cold voice said. Geralt could feel Jaskier tense up again. 

They turned. 

“Father,” Julian replied stiffly. This man had Jaskier’s blue eyes, except his were cold as ice, where Jaskier’s were the bright blue sky. 

“And this is... Gerald?” he turned his eyes to Geralt. 

“Geralt, actually.” He gave Pankratz Sr. a firm shake. “Nice to meet you, sir.” 

“Indeed.” The man gave Geralt a once over. “This is serious, is it?”

“For fuck’s sake, Dad. Get right to it, don’t you?” Jaskier shook his head. 

“I’m just wondering, Julian. You haven’t brought anyone home in years.”

“Gee, I wonder why,” he replied tightly. 

“And what do you do, Gerald?”

“It’s  _ Geralt, _ and he’s the head chef at the restaurant,” Jaskier gritted through his teeth. 

“Julian!” Sylvia appeared in a cloud of perfume, rescuing them all. “You must play for us.” 

Jaskier took a deep breath and eyed the piano in the corner. Then his eyes went to Geralt. 

Geralt gave him a small encouraging nod. 

Jaskier gave his mother a brisk smile and turned on his heel to march over to the piano. Pankratz Sr. disappeared into the crowd, but Sylvia found herself a seat on a plush bench near the piano and pulled Geralt down next to her. 

Geralt watched Jaskier settle at the piano and lightly rest his fingers on the keys for a moment. 

And then he began.

Chills washed over Geralt when the first notes of ‘O Holy Night’ reached his ears. A hush fell over the room and everyone turned to watch. 

Geralt felt goosebumps over every inch of his skin when Jaskier started singing. His eyes closed, and he was lost in the music.

Midway through the song Sylvie squeezed Geralt’s forearm and he could see that her eyes were wet. When the last notes faded, the room was silent. 

Sylvie sniffled loudly and began clapping. The rest of the guests followed. 

Jaskier stood up and smiled at the crowd and Geralt found himself drawn to him. He slid his arm back around his waist and was surprised to find how natural it felt now. He found himself without words, and before he knew what he was doing, he kissed Jaskier gently on the cheek. 

Jaskier looked at him, happy and surprised. “Thank you, Geralt.” 

And then Sylvia was on them. “Let’s see a better kiss than that!” 

Jaskier was instantly flustered. “No, Mom, please…”

“Oh, come on! You’re standing under mistletoe, you know!” They all looked up, and indeed, there it was, wound into the bow of the bough above them. 

“Mom, Geralt doesn’t want to-”

And then before Geralt could think about it, he was kissing Jaskier. 

Jaskier’s lips stilled briefly, and then he began to kiss Geralt back. Their mouths both opened, and Geralt revelled in the feeling of Jaskier’s warm, soft lip between his. He tasted like spiced rum and smelled like heaven. 

Without realizing it, his other hand wound around Jaskier’s hip too, and he gently pulled him closer. With Jaskier’s warm body pressed against his, he forgot where he was. 

Until Sylvie clapped with delight. “Oh, look at you two! Too precious!” 

Geralt pulled away, and their eyes met. He was breathing a little heavier than normal, and so was Jaskier. 

Then Jaskier turned to smile awkwardly at his mom. “Yes, there you go. Now please leave Geralt alone.” 

Sylvie took Jaskier’s arm and dove into a story from some of the evening’s gossip while Geralt tuned her out, suddenly very much aware that everything in his world had shifted. 

That kiss.  _ That kiss. _ He wanted more, he  _ needed  _ more. He bit his lip and clenched his free hand, attempting to get his racing heart under control. 

As Jaskier had promised, they didn’t stay long. The party was starting to get a little louder and unwieldy when Jaskier leaned over to whisper in his ear. 

“My Aunt Lorraine’s shoes are off. That’s our cue to leave.” 

Jaskier’s breath tickled. Geralt frowned. “What do you mean?” 

“Just… trust me.” 

They found their coats and waited silently for the valet to bring Jaskier’s car. 

They slid into the car and, after bucking himself in, Jaskier turned to Geralt. “Thank you for tonight. You… it was amazing. Beyond my wildest expectations. I cannot thank you enough.” 

Geralt felt a blush rising in his cheeks and he scratched a pretend itch on his nose to hide it a bit, hoping Jaskier wouldn’t see in the darkened car. “You’re welcome. I didn’t mind helping.”

“You’re a good friend, Geralt.” He could feel Jaskier’s eyes still on him. 

“Yeah, well… you owe me.” Friend.  _ Friend. _ They were  _ friends. _ This was a favour, nothing more. 

Jaskier nodded, and Geralt felt some relief when he turned the radio onto Christmas carols and began to sing along. 

* * * * 

Geralt found it harder and harder to be around Jaskier without touching him, remembering how easy it felt to wrap an arm around his waist. And that kiss… 

But it was their busiest time of year, and fortunately when he was around Jaskier, they both had a million things to be doing. They smiled and asked how the other was doing where appropriate, but otherwise Geralt found it easier to not be around him. 

Their busy season capped off with New Year’s Eve, of course, and the restaurant was hosting a champagne reception at midnight. 

Geralt always agreed to work New Year’s Eve because he never had any other plans. What was surprising to him was that Jaskier was there, too. The man had a very busy social life, surely a few enticing invitations would have come his way. 

“Surprised to see you here,” Geralt told him when midnight was approaching and Jaskier was lingering near the cook line.

He shrugged. “Not much to do right now, they’re all ready for the countdown.” 

“No, I mean… at work. Tonight.” 

“Oh.” He blushed a little. “I don’t know, I just thought it would be a good night to work. Overtime, lots of tips…” 

Geralt nodded. 

“Oh, hey,” Jaskier said as if the idea had just come to him. “My mom is talking about having a brunch in a couple weeks and she specifically asked if you could come. She quite likes my fake boyfriend.” 

“No.” The word was out before Geralt could think. 

“Oh.” Jaskier’s smile drooped as he leaned back against the counter. “Yeah, of course, no. Once was more than enough, you’re right.” 

“No, Jaskier, I….” Geralt pulled off his chef’s hat and clenched it in his fists. “I don’t want to be your fake boyfriend.” 

“Yeah, okay. I get it, Geralt. Sorry, I won’t-” 

“No.” Geralt was frustrated, the words stuck in his throat. He looked at Jaskier and those big blue eyes were too sad, and suddenly the words loosened. “I want to be your real boyfriend.” 

The kitchen screeched to a halt around them. 

Jaskier slowly stood up and Geralt watched his sadness melt into hope.

“You do?”

“Of course I d-” and Jaskier flung himself onto Geralt, lips crushing together. 

There was literal cheering all around them. Geralt’s eyes were closed, but he distinctly heard Regis announce, “Tissaia wins!” 

Geralt wrapped his arms around Jaskier, heart ready to pound through his chest. He kissed him back with everything he had. Jaskier’s hands went into his hair and he pressed himself into Geralt, up on his tiptoes. 

The kiss went on and Geralt started to get a little dizzy. 

“Alright, already. Get a room!” Lambert finally barked at them. 

Geralt broke off, panting. 

“Does this mean you’ll come to brunch?” Jaskier asked. Their lips were still only inches apart. 

Geralt kissed him again. “Yes, I’ll come to brunch.” And again. And again and again and again. 

The kitchen hummed back into action around them, but Geralt couldn’t let go. There was no cooking left to do at this point. They could manage without him. Jaskier however...

“Do you need to get back to your tables?”

“Nah, I was sharing with Essi. She’s fine.” 

Geralt rumbled a low laugh. 

“I’m so sorry to interrupt…” They turned to see Regis’s warm smile. “But it’s almost midnight. Champagne?” He held a tray full of champagne glasses and they each took one, 

“Regis?” Geralt asked him. “What did you mean, ‘Tissaia wins’?” 

Regis’s eyes crinkled. “Oh, we may have had a pool going as to when you two would finally admit your feelings for each other. She called New Year’s Eve.” 

Jaskier’s jaw dropped. “Regis! You mean... you knew? Everyone knew?” 

“I didn’t know,” Geralt squeezed him. Regis gracefully excused himself to finish distributing the champagne glasses to the kitchen staff. 

Jaskier kissed him again. “Me neither… although the way you fake kissed me, I should have known. That was… not fake.” 

Geralt chuckled and rested their foreheads together. “No, it wasn’t,” he agreed. “But… I just thought it would be a bad idea since we work together.” 

Jaskier ran a thumb along Geralt’s cheekbone. “Maybe, but.... fuck it. Right?”

“Right.” They kissed again, slow and sweet, while the rest of the kitchen counted down to midnight around them. 

“Happy new year, Geralt.” 

“Happy new year, Jaskier.” 

They drank their champagne in between a few fizzy kisses, and Geralt felt like the bubbles were inside his head. 

“Why don’t you two head out? The rest of us can finish up here.” Tissaia appeared at their side. The corner of her mouth was quirked up. 

“Yes, ma’am,” Jaskier grinned, eyes on Geralt. 

Geralt felt his breach catch in his throat, cheeks burning. He mumbled his thanks to Tissaia. 

“You’re going to have to let go of me now if we’re leaving…” Jaskier murmured, lips still only inches from Geralt’s. 

Geralt grinned and hoisted him up, carrying him back to the lockers with Jaskier’s legs wrapped around his waist. 

“Ooh, I like this,” Jaskier said, quite breathlessly. “Never put me down.” 

“Never,” Geralt promised. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I have now written part 2! It's the next [34 Hours](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27043531). 
> 
> If you liked this, you can [read all my other Geraskier romcoms here or subscribe to me](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyRita1967/pseuds/LovelyRita1967) to make sure you don’t miss any! 
> 
> If you think you're on board the soft Regis train, check out Gryphonheart's story [An Unexpected Wish](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25155211/chapters/60954943). (I have it on good authority that they LIVE FOR COMMENTS.)
> 
> Blaire writes delicious canon Geraskier and all of her stuff is so good. She just published a beautiful, funny little ficlet called [The Lonely Princess](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26231689). Give her some love, please! 
> 
> Come say hi on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/LovelyRita1967) (18+) and [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/lovelyrita1967). I follow back! 
> 
> Kudos are so appreciated, and each and every comment makes me squeal.


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